Imatges de pÓgina
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Which is no more than what is false and vain,

And merely mortal dross ;

So little is our loss,

So little is thy gain!

For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd, And last of all thy greedy self consum'd,

Then long eternity shall greet our bliss

With an individual kiss;

And joy shall overtake us as a flood,
When every thing that is sincerely good
And perfectly divine,

With truth, and peace, and love, shall ever shine*
About the supreme throne

Of him, to whose happy-making sight alone, When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb, Then, all this earthy grossness quit,

Attir'd with stars we shall for ever sit,

Triumphing over death, and chance, and thee.
O Time!

AT A SOLEMN MUSIC.

BLEST pair of Sirens, pledges of heaven's joy,
Sphere born, harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse
W'ed your divine sounds, and mix'd power employ
Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce ;
And to our high-rais'd phantasy present
That undisturbed song of pure consent,
Aye sung before the sapphire-colour'd throne
To Him that sits thereon,

With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee ;
Where the bright seraphim, in burning row
Their loud up-lifted angel-trumpets blow;
And the cherubic host, in thousand quires,
Touch their immortal harps of golden wires,
With those just spirits that wear victorious palm
Hy ns devout and holy psalms

Singing everlastingly":

That we on earth, with undiscording voice,
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till disproportion'd sin

Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh diu
Broke the fair music that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd
In perfect diapason, whilst they stood an
In first obedience, and their state of good.
O, may we soon again renew that song,
And keep in tune with heaven, till God ere long
To his celestial concert us unite,

To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light!

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The honour'd wife of Winchester,

A viscount's daughter, an earl's heir,
Besides what her virtues fair
Added to her noble birth,

More than she could own from earth.
Summers three times eight save one o
She has told; alas! too soon:

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After so short time of breath,1999 Jap

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To house with darkness and with death. its
Yet had the number of her days

Been as complete as was her praise, ·
Nature and fate had had no strife
In giving limit to her life...oT

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Her high birth and her graces sweet, Quickly found a lover meet;194 20 610 95 96 The virgin quire for her requesti presar soi 145 The god that sits at marriage-feast; we say He at their invoking came, 3* ***

But with a scarce well-lighted flame ;

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And in his garland, as he stood,
Ye might discern a cypress-bud,
Once had the early matrons run
To greet her of a lovely son,
And now with second hope she goes,
And calls Lucina to her throes;
But, whether by mischance or blame,
Atropos for Lucina came;

And with remorseless cruelty:
Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree:
The hapless babe, before his birth,
Had burial, yet not laid in earth :
And the languish'd mother's womb
Was
as not long a living tomb.

So have I seen some tender slip, Sav'd with care from Winter's nip, The pride of her carnation train, Pick'd up by some unheedy swain, Who only thought to crop the flower New shot up from vernal shower; But the fair blossom hangs the head Side-ways, as on a dying bed

And those pearls of dew she wears,
Prove to be presaging tears,
Which the sad morn had let fall
On her bastening funeral.

Gentle lady, may thy grave
Peace and quiet ever have;
After this thy travail sore,
Sweet rest seize thee evermore,
That, to give the world increase,
Shorten'd hast thy own life's leade
Here, besides the sorrowing
That thy noble house doth bring,
Here be tears of perfect moan
Wept for thee in Helicon ;
And some flowers, and some baya,
For thy hearse, to strew the ways
Sent thee from the banks of Came
Devoted to thy virtuous name;

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Whilst thou, bright saint, high sitt'st in glory
Next her, much like to thee in story,
That fair Syrian shepherdess,

Who, after years of barrenness,
The highly favour'd Joseph bore,
To him that serv'd for her before,
And at her next birth, much like thee,
Through pangs fled to felicity,
Far within the bosom bright
Of blazing Majesty and Light:
There with thee, new-welcome saint,
Like fortunes may her soul acquaint
With thee there clad in radiant sheen,
No marchioness, but now a queen.”

SONG ON MAY MORNING.

Now the bright morning-star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap throw i
The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.
Hail, bounteous May, that dest inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long

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MISCELLANIES.

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A

L

ANNO ÆTATIS XIX.

At a Vacation Exercise in the College, part Latin, part English. The Latin Speeches ended, the English thus began:

HAIL, native language, that by sinews weak
D.dst move my first-endeavouring tongife to speak,
And madest imperfect words with childish trips,
Half-unpronounc'd, slide through my infant lips,
Driving dumb silence from the portal door,
Where he had mutely sat two years before : *1
Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask,*
That now I use thee in my latter task:

Small loss it is that hence can come unto thee,
I know my tongue but little grace can do thee:

Thou need'st not be ambitious to be first,

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Believe me, I have thither pack'd the worst: P
And, if it happens as I did forecast,

The daintiest dishes shall be serv'd up last.
I pray thee then deny me not thy aid,

For this same small neglect that I have made :
But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure;
And from thy wardrobe bring thy chiefest treasure
Not those new-fangled toys, and trimming slight
Which takes our late fantastics with delight;
But cull those richest robes, and gayest attire,
Which deepest spirits and choicest wits desire:

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